To Live After Death
by oakenwitch
Summary: She wished they could feel for a moment the pain and despair that had filled her when she could not find him after the battle. She had screamed his name and feared every time she turned over the dead body of a dwarf to feel only guilty relief every time it was not him. [One-Shot. BoFA sort of happens]


"You betrayed your king and abandoned your duty."

Thranduil's words were as sharp as her blades. He paced the tent with his hands behind his back, glancing at those who were present. There were many elves there, and all of them looked gravely at Tauriel.

"You led the prince out of the realm and into danger," he continued without looking at her. He was trying to stay calm, but Tauriel could see the way his fingers were pressed hard against each other and a hint of anger in his voice "only to abandon him to chase after the orcs to save a _dwarf_"

Tauriel stood still, without betraying any emotion. Her king wasn't saying anything that was not true, and she had been waiting this moment since she had left the Woodland Realm. It didn't make it any easier.

"You refused to fight with your own people and instead helped those who had been our prisoners not a fortnight before". Thranduil stopped his pace and looked at her directly for the first time since he had entered the tent. Tauriel could see the pain and grief that marked his expression and did not need to listen to him to know what he was thinking. He spoke his thoughts anyway. "Twenty-four elves under your direct command died yesterday. Twenty-four elves you should have led into battle. Twenty-four elves that will not see their home again" He walked closer to her, not raising his voice. Tauriel wished he was shouting at her the way she had seen Bard shouting at his children when he found out they hadn't been hidden during Smaug's attack on Laketown.

"You have brought shame and death to those around you. You are not fit to be captain of the Guard".

Tauriel swallowed with difficulty after the sentence she had dreaded to hear. She knew many had thought the same for a long time before the dwarves had set foot in their forest. _Too young_, some had said. _Too reckless_, whispered others. She had never let them stop her, but they might have been right after all. She looked at her king, and her guilt became harder to bear. He had trusted her since she was a young soldier. He had encouraged her to pursue her ambitions, to train harder, to be better. He had offered her the position of captain against the advice of others. And now, she had failed him. She had failed her people. She had failed her soldiers.

"Are there any words you would like to share before us?" he asked stepping back from her and sitting on the simple chair he used instead of a throne.

Tauriel had always been better with actions that with words. Her speeches were usually short and to the point, and there weren't many people she could speak freely with. She looked at those around her, and saw their grave and hard faces. _They have all lost someone_, she thought.

She wanted to tell them how easy it had been to talk with Kíli in the cells. How she had felt alone and estranged from her own kin when she had dreamed of leaving their forest to see other places, walk under other skies. How fascinated she was with his stories of the Blue Mountains and his travels before their quest to reach Erebor. She wanted them to understand that, yes, she had wanted to kill the orcs that had dared to venture into her home and fill the air with their putrid smell, but that she could not just let Kíli die before her eyes just because he was a dwarf.

She wished they could feel for a moment the pain and despair that had filled her when she could not find him after the battle. She had screamed his name and feared every time she turned over the dead body of a dwarf to feel only guilty relief every time it was not him.

She didn't think they'd understand how she walked among the corpses as if in a dream when she recognised his brother's golden hair in the distance, cradling a body in his arms and crying. She had thought of her king then, and how he would sit for hours besides the sculpture of his wife, killed before she was born. She had always thought about the beauty and solemnity of it, but only now understood the pain that he must have felt.

She had been luckier, though.

"I could not dare ask for your forgiveness, Your Grace." She said with her eyes on the floor, thinking about those who would not wake. "I abandoned my duties and left my kin behind when I should have been leading them. I can only hope the Valar will ever forgive me for that." She took a deep breath, and thought of the way Kíli had looked at her that very morning, when he first awoke after the battle.

"I cannot ask any of you to forgive me, but I fought to protect something as pure and bright as the stars we love." Kíli's hands had been warm against her cheeks, and she could see one tear still lingering in his eyelashes. She felt guilty again for her own happiness when Kíli was still crying for his uncle.

(She wondered if death always brought guilt to those who survived it)

She looked into Thranduil's eyes, wondering if he would ever trust her again. She bowed before him and left the king's tent with her head up, not letting the whispers that were forming after her make her step falter.


End file.
